Reunite
by soakedtothemarrow
Summary: Maybe all those years of chasing her had been in vain. Maybe the one they really wanted had been right there from the start. But try telling THEM that. Howdy/Dexter, human AU. Title suggestions appreciated!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer** - I do not own Hamtaro, which is probably a good thing, because if I _did_, then there would be a heck of a lot more slash than it probably needs.

**Notes** - This pairing needs more love. I'm not an extremely skilled or disciplined author. So, naturally, I went and wrote a story about it. Reviews are always appreciated, especially if you can help me to improve my writing!

**Warning** - Humanized, aged-up hamsters. No, they don't have hamster ears or anything, they're just plain old humans. However, I've tried to keep their personalities intact... which is difficult, considering it's been so long since I've seen the show... hmm. ALSO. HOWDY/DEXTER SLASH AHOY. If you don't like it, well, you can't say that I didn't warn you. Oh, and the rating may or may not go up.

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Dexter winced as the sharp, clanging sound of rusted old chimes attached to the creaky old door announced his arrival at Sunflower Market. A century must have passed since the last time someone bothered to take some steel wool to it, and it showed: brick-red residue caked the outside of the once-gleaming metal, and whatever silver managed to survive the rust's invasion had been reduced to a dull and dusty gray, refusing to reflect even the brightest rays of light. The chimes themselves dangled precariously from frayed strings attached to an equally corroded iron circle, which hung half an inch in front of the door so that whenever it swung open, it would brush underneath the chimes, setting off a cacophony that never failed to make Dexter's poor ears ache in agony.

And when he heard the next greeting, Dexter knew that today was _not_ destined to be his day.

"Hey, Dex!" Ugh, that _voice_. Ladled with a Southern accent and a grating, high-pitched tone that hardly fit a man of twenty-two years, the fact that Dexter heard it now could only mean one thing.

It was Howdy's shift.

"Good t' see ya!" Howdy flashed a grin from the counter he stood at, his two overgrown front teeth preventing the other teeth from fully coming together, which gave him his trademark jack-o-lantern look. "Anythin' here that catches yer eye? 'Cause we got four of 'em!" He cracked up at his own joke, slamming the granite counter with his fist so hard that even Boss would have been able to feel it from three miles away. "Ya geddit? 'Cause you've got four eyes, what with yer glasses 'n all!"

Dexter's eyelid twitched slightly from behind aforementioned glasses, quite obviously not amused. "You didn't have to explain, I was perfectly aware of the punch line. In _fact_," he said, now glaring at Howdy, "the joke ceased to be funny the very _moment _you decided to explain it. Of course, that's a moot point, considering that-"

"Well, ex_cuse_ me, Princess!" Howdy crossed his arms over his faded red apron, even more trademarked than his buck-toothed grin. "What's got your panties all up in a knot today?"

Oh, how Dexter wanted to deck that obnoxious idiot all the way to the vegetable aisle and back. However, he was far too refined to resort to such primitive methods of dealing with his frustration, so he stood up a little straighter, puffed out his chest a little farther, and did his best to look down at Howdy (a difficult feat considering that Dexter wasn't even an inch taller than him) as he said, "Nothing that _you_ would either know or care about." He adjusted his bow tie, trying to look important.

Howdy noticed. "Aw, c'mon, Dex, don't give me that 'holier-than-thou' attitude! I'm a friend, aren't I? And I wanna know what's goin' on with my friend! Izzat too much to ask?"

"I would hardly classify us as 'friends'." But both Dexter and Howdy knew full well that was a flat-out lie. They _were_ friends, and fairly close ones at that, since they had known each other since the beginning of sixth grade, the dramatic and hormonal hellhole that mankind fearfully knows as "middle school". Though there had been other friends they got to know and grew to love while serving their time there, something between those two had just "clicked" ever since the day that Dexter grudgingly let Howdy copy his math homework, and then Howdy insisted on repaying him by cleaning out the horribly disgusting desk that the teacher had assigned to Dexter. Number 19. The desk that everyone knew but no one, not even the custodians, dared to conquer. That is, until Howdy had taken a cleaning cloth and half a dozen containers of Clorox to it. Dexter never admitted it, but knowing that someone was willing to brave grody bologna and cockroach nests for *his* sake made him feel more euphoric than he had since his first Christmas, and perhaps even more so. After all, he had never even _seen_ Santa, never mind let him copy off his homework. And once you do something so dangerous for someone, and then they do something equally dangerous for _your_ sake... well, it's almost impossible _not _to be friends.

They bickered whenever they possibly could _because_ of their friendship: why waste time venting things you don't mean to someone who might get their feelings hurt, they figured, when you could just fight with a friend who understood that all the insults, all of the blows were just to let out whatever animosity they couldn't unleash upon anyone else? However, that didn't mean that Howdy couldn't tell when Dexter was just all steamed up about something stupid and when he really _was_ honest-to-goodness upset. And his instincts told him that this was definitely the latter of the two.

"Dex. Don't be difficult, now." Howdy propped up his head with his forearms as though preparing for a story, elbows pushing down onto the countertop. "Just tell me what's wrong, all right? I'll listen."

Dexter looked like he wished he hadn't said anything at all. "It's nothing, I assure you."

"Now, wait just a goldarn second! First it was nothing I'd know about, 'n then when I _wanna_ know, it' nothing at all? Seems pretty convenient to me." Though Howdy knew that Dexter's demeanor towards him wasn't exactly a bucketful of love most of the time, he wasn't normally this determined to be so difficult, especially since nobody else was around to see whatever weakness he felt he would show by acting _kindly_ towards Howdy.

But right now, Dexter looked like he was about to cut someone, or at least the candy assortment displayed right next to the cash register, which he was now glaring at, like the Hershey bars were the source of all his problems. "You really don't know when to just let a subject drop, do you?"

Once again, Howdy was possessed by a strange force that told him that _now_ was the time to tell another bad joke. "Never, on account of not wantin' them t' get hurt on the way down! Get it? 'Cause if yer droppin' a subject-"

"Just... save it for Pashmina, all right?" Dexter couldn't have been more exasperated if he had decided to spend the day trying to have intelligent conversation with a wall. "That is, if you _want_ her ears to burst into flames from the sound of your terrible jokes."

Aside from Howdy's sense of humor (or lack thereof), Pashmina really was the only true source of friction between the frenemies, considering that they both had been engaged in a contest for her affections ever since the beginning of ninth grade, the PDA-ridden and SAT prep-filled hellhole that mankind not-so-fearfully knows as "high school." Evidently, neither Howdy nor Dexter had ever heard of the phrase "bros before hoes," so whenever the subject of Pashmina was brought up, they were at each other's throats: trying to outdo each other's attempts to flirt, arguing over which one Pashmina liked best... neither of their parents had been happy when the boys had almost strangled each other over who would get to be Pashmina's date to the prom, and then didn't even listen when poor Maxwell tried to tell them that she was already going with Bernard, or Panda, as everyone else called him because of the black-rimmed goggles that he could never be seen without.

Now that all the drama of high school was over, neither Dexter nor Howdy was sure if they really _did_ like Pashmina anymore, or if they just wanted another excuse to fight with each other. But whether they did or not, she still was a sensitive subject, complete with some excruciating memories for both of them, so it was no surprise that, upon hearing Pashmina's name, Howdy instantly switched over to the defensive.

"Hey, at least she likes me better than some weirdo who can't even see three feet in front of him without his glasses!" He glared pointedly at Dexter, waiting to see what kind of insult he would come up with next.

However, when Dexter just nodded and walked right by his counter like nothing had even happened ... well, Howdy couldn't have been more shocked than if Hamtaro and Bijou finally resolved all of their pent-up sexual tension for each other right in the middle of the store.

And speaking of Hamtaro...

The chimes clanged together once again, proclaiming the arrival of a youth with wild orange hair, perpetually muddy tennis shoes (Howdy would have to mop up his trail after he left), and a grin that made everyone else wonder how it could possibly fit on his face. "Hamha, Howdy!"

Howdy perked up noticeably upon hearing the teenager's signature greeting, part of a secret language that he had helped to develop when they were young and (not so) innocent in middle school. "Hamtaro! Great t' see yer face around here! Need groceries? 'Cause we've got 'em!"

"Thanks! Actually, I just need the usual for today, so I'll be in and out pretty quickly." "The usual" consisted of the ingredients for the sandwich that gave Hamtaro his nickname: white bread; smoked ham; and taro, a peculiar-smelling leaf that Howdy had went to great efforts to get stocked in the store just for his younger friend's convenience. Many a person had tried the sandwich and spat it out in disgust, but for some reason, Hamtaro just couldn't get enough of it.

"You sure that's it? Nothing Laura asked you t' get on the way out?" Though Howdy knew that Hamtaro really was a great guy at heart, he _did_ have a tendency to be a bit absent-minded at times. It wasn't uncommon for him to forget minor things, such as a grocery list, when a meeting was, his homework... come to think if it, didn't he have some stuff to fill out for college right about now?

"Hmm..." Hamtaro furrowed his eyebrows in concentration, a ghost of a frown flashing so quickly that maybe it wasn't even there to begin with. Then, his eyes suddenly became twice as wide as realization went off through his brain as though Howdy had connected the light bulb in his head to a power outlet. "Ah, crud! Totally forgot! I gotta get something for Pashmina's birthday! It's in a few days, isn't it?"

Howdy didn't answer right away because he just remembered that he, too, had almost forgotten Pashmina's birthday. How did _that_ happen? Usually, he would have had an extravagant gift planned out for her over a month ago, and now, he didn't even remember when she was born? But a quick glance at the calendar hanging on the wall by the door told him that yes, he _had_ forgotten.

Something must be seriously wrong with him.

Howdy just realized that his mouth had been hanging open for the past minute. He inhaled sharply to clear his head, not wanting Hamtaro to worry about his memory lapse. After all, he'd probably conclude that Howdy had Alzheimer's or some other terrible mind-devouring disease, and he already had enough on his plate, what with taking care of Laura and all. "Sure is! You have any idea what you're going to get her?" As he asked, Howdy made a mental note to look through the cash register to find some foreign coins that someone had paid him with the other day. Pashmina had a currency collection going, and if he wrapped them up nice and neat in a pretty box with a handmade card, then he'd have the _perfect_ gift! That is, if she didn't already _have_ those coins to begin with... hmm, he'd have to make another mental note to indiscreetly ask her about that.

"I think I'll... uh." Hamtaro stalled, the long pause answering Howdy's question. "Maybe I'll... aw, I'm pulling a total blanko here..." He tapped his forehead in frustration, trying his hardest to think of something, anything that he could give his friend for her special day.

Howdy decided that this was a good time to help the poor guy out _and_ drop a joke on him, just to cheer him up. "Y'know, I just saw Dex come in here a while ago. Maybe you could ask 'im to 'present' ya with an idea! Ha ha, geddit? 'Present'?"

If this was a girl's romantic comedy anime, then Hamtaro would have had a large sweat drop sliding down the back of his head, or, as the kids call it these days, he would have 'sweatdropped.' "Um... yeah, I'm just going to go find Dexter. Thanks for the idea!" And just like that, Hamtaro went off like a rocket, shooting down the aisles, completely ignoring the store's "no running" policy.

Howdy finished chuckling to himself as he watched the youth take off, not bothering to enforce said "no running" policy. "Gonna have a heck of a time cleanin' up after him..."


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer** - I do not own Hamtaro, which is probably a good thing, because if I _did_, then there would be a heck of a lot more slash than it probably needs.

**Notes** - No, I'm not dead, I'm just insufferably lazy, ha ha. Have a new chapter! And as always, reviews are love. Thank you so much to the people who have reviewed!

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Hamtaro scurried up and down the aisles, all but a big blur of orange and white zooming past so quickly that boxes and tins almost toppled off the shelves from the recoil. Pupils fixed in his chocolate irises flicked around their full vision range in search of a man in a suit with large glasses and a red bow tie; when they locked onto their target idling in the wheat section, the youth all but torpedoed straight into him with the force of a hundred steamrollers. The sharp "oof!" and gasps for air were quickly stifled by Hamtaro wrapping his arms around the poor man's torso, a display of the younger's lack of personal space.

Dexter didn't need to look to know who his attacker was. "Ow - Hamtaro, will you kindly _get off me_ - !"

Hamtaro laughed and released his grip on Dexter to avoid being swatted by his hand. "Sorry, Dexter, it's just been _so long_ since the last time I've seen you!"

"Which was less than three days ago."

Hamtaro pouted, which would have looked strange on any other teenager. "We didn't even say 'hi' or anything! You were busy!"

"If by using the men's room and you barging into the exact same stall I occupied you mean busy -"

"But it wasn't even locked!"

"Do you honestly think that every single lock on every single bathroom door works correctly?"

"Wow, you seem pretty grumpy today." Hamtaro stood back and cocked his head, analyzing Dexter from top to bottom. "Did you lose your wallet or something?"

And then Dexter realized that he was trying to argue with _Hamtaro_, of all people. That was almost like arguing with a dog: it would bark right back at you for a bit, but you never really would get anywhere because it just didn't have the capacity to understand anything you were talking about, and if you gave it a cookie, then it would completely forget that you were even angry at it in the first place.

So, Dexter decided to give Hamtaro a metaphorical cookie. "No, no, just a bit shocked to have someone jump on me out of nowhere... how are you, by the way, Hamtaro?"

Hamtaro gobbled it right up. "I'm great! Great weather, great health... and Laura's doing pretty good, too." His ever-present grin shrunk by the smallest degree when he mentioned the girl's name, but then he switched the subject so quickly that you wouldn't even know the words had even been said. "Hey, can you help me pick out a birthday gift for Pashmina? I kinda forgot, and you seem to know pretty good what she likes, so... help me out?" He laughed sheepishly, obviously embarrassed to have forgotten something so important.

Dexter, flattered to have someone notice how well he knew Pashmina (now if only SHE would figure it out), was quick to take Hamtaro up on his request. "Yes, I'd be more than happy to give you some advice."

Hamtaro tackled in Dexter another bear hug, almost knocking him into a shelf full of white rice. "Thanks, Dexter! You're the best!"

Dexter half-heartedly patted Hamtaro's head, the youth's bright orange hair flattening only slightly as he did so. "You're quite welcome, but... please, let go of me." He said this last part through clenched teeth.

Hamtaro looked up, only now realizing that Dexter _still_ wasn't in the mood for physical affection. Letting go of his older friend and stepping back a few feet, he said, "Sorry, sorry. Let's start looking, then! Pashmina's gift isn't going to pick out itself!"

"No, indeed."

After Hamtaro quickly grabbed a loaf of bread ("For you-know-what," he had said), the unlikely duo began to make their way towards the less food-orientated part of the store, going to the end of the aisle and walking along the frozen section lining the back wall so they could get a better look at the signs hanging on the ceiling above their respective aisles. Dexter didn't mind the cold radiating from the displays too much since he was wearing his usual long-sleeved suit, but Hamtaro wasn't as lucky: with khaki shorts and a large T-shirt that hung limply from his wiry frame, he soon felt goosebumps peppering his arms and legs, and before he knew it, he had unconsciously wrapped his arms around each other to try and conserve his own body heat, bread bag dangling from his clammy hand and swinging back and forth with his movements like a pendulum.

"A little chilly, are we?" Dexter asked him, amused.

"Y-yeah... maybe I need to get a scarf for myself, too..." Hamtaro let out a sigh of relief he didn't even know he was holding in when they finally rounded a corner into another aisle, delighted to escape the frigid air. However, this relief soon turned into confusion when he saw where Dexter had led him.

"Uh... why are we in the sewing section?"

If it had been anyone else, Dexter would have retorted with a sarcastic remark, but because this was _Hamtaro_ he was dealing with here, he knew that he must be as understanding as possible to get through his thick head. "Because Pashmina loves her scarf, and wants to take good care of it."

He only got a blank stare in return. "Yeah, but what does that have to do with sewing, wouldn't that just _oh_ I get it now." Hamtaro felt very stupid. "She needs sewing supplies to fix it if it gets a hole or anything like that."

"Precisely."

Hamtaro eyed the assortment of needles arranged in neat little boxes on the shelf in front of him. "So, she'd probably want something like a sewing kit? If it had her special color of yarn and everything?" _God knows how picky she is about her scarf color._

"Yes, and I know exactly what shade of color her scarf is." Dexter strode briskly down the aisle, scanning the shelves until he came across a wide variety of plastic purses, each containing a set of needles, measuring tape, yarn, and other sewing accessories that he couldn't make out. He studied the contents of each, and soon murmured an "a_ha_" as he carefully pulled out one of the purses wedged haphazardly between two organized rows.

"Modern pink." Dexter deposited the kit into a startled Hamtaro's hands, who fumbled for a few seconds to balance it along with his loaf of bread. "That color matches Pashmina's scarf right down to the individual pigments used to mix it. She's sure to love it."

Hamtaro gave him a look like Dexter had just given him water after spending a month stranded in the desert. "Wow, thank you so much, Dexter! You're the best!"

Dexter's face flushed a pale shade of pink upon hearing the compliment. "Well, I wouldn't necessarily call myself the _best_, but you're quite welcome, Hamtaro. Always happy to help."

Hamtaro glanced down at his newfound prize before looking back up at Dexter, his ever-changing expression now puzzled. "Hey, Dexter?"

"Yes?"

"What are _you_ getting Pashmina for her birthday?" Hamtaro began to fiddle with the purse's cloth handle, twisting it into a tight coil between his thumb and index finger.

Dexter was quiet for a moment, thinking over how he should answer. After all, though he'd never doubt for a second that Hamtaro did indeed have a heart of gold, he knew that the youth also possessed the mouth of a parrot. Perhaps it was because of his innate honesty and his dislike for hiding things from his friends, but the simple fact was that Hamtaro couldn't keep a secret even if the fate of the world depended on it. He'd never go around broadcasting it to every stranger he saw, of course, but the guilt of having to _lie_ to his friends if they ever asked about it would always get to him in the end, and there was a ninety-nine percent chance that he would break down crying and confessing everything, much to the dismay of whoever was so unfortunate to have told him the secret in the first place. And to tell the truth, Dexter had gone to great efforts to keep his gift for Pashmina private, so he didn't want to risk Hamtaro inadvertently spoiling the surprise to the first person who asked him about it.

"That's something for me to know and you to find out on the sixteenth," Dexter said, not even attempting to wink to emphasize his secrecy. He was not exactly gifted in the ways of facial control, and all of his attempts to wink in the past had resulted in overly enthusiastic blinking, always earning him much ridicule from everyone around him.

"Really?" Hamtaro asked, the purse handle now wrinkled beyond repair. "You know, if you forgot her birthday, too, you can tell me. I won't get mad at you or anything."

Dexter couldn't help but laugh. He, of all people, forget Pashmina's birthday? The cold from the dairy section must still have an effect on Hamtaro's sanity. "And may I ask what prompted you to think that I could possibly forget such an important day?"

"Ah, well, it's just that I think Howdy might've forgotten, too, and I thought that maybe there was some kind of birthday amnesia going around or something." Hamtaro managed a relieved grin. "But I guess it was just me and Howdy, since you seem to be pretty on top of it!"

"That's good to wait what?" Dexter frowned, eyebrows shooting up like elevators. "You said that _Howdy_ forgot her birthday?"

"Yeah, I thought it was weird, too! I mean, he didn't _say_ that he forgot or anything, but when I talked to him about it, he looked kind of guilty and kept looking at the calender, and his voice was all squeaky, like he was trying to hide something. Probably just seeing things, but..."

"No, no, I believe you." And Dexter did, because if someone as oblivious as Hamtaro noticed your nonverbal expressions, then you couldn't get more obvious than if you held up a big neon sign proclaiming your feelings to the world. Then, more directed at himself than Hamtaro: "It's just a bit strange, considering that he spoke so passionately about Pashmina just recently... so that means it didn't just slip his mind, he must have genuinely forgotten. But why would he? Huh..."

Hamtaro, not as eager to discover the reason behind Howdy's memory lapse as Dexter was, chose this moment to escape with a quick "see you 'round" so he could finish his shopping. After all, he had a sandwich to make, didn't he?

Dexter didn't realize he was alone until almost ten minutes later, when he heard the incessant chimes' noise carry all the way to the back of the store and shook him out of his reverie, followed by Howdy's favorite goodbye line: "Pleasure doin' business with ya!" Sometimes Howdy liked to change up his farewells a bit, maybe throw in a "Y'all come back now, y'hear?" or a friendly "Say hi to (insert family member here) for me, all right?" He was even more prone to Southern hospitality when Pashmina left; he'd load so many coupons and complimentary gifts on her that the poor girl could barely stagger her way out the door. Of course, Dexter couldn't complain, for it _did_ provide him with an opportunity to talk to her on the way out: "Oh dear, that looks _so_ heavy, Pashmina, here, I'll take this half for you, oh no, no trouble at all, Pashmina, always happy to help, and by the way, do you have any plans for this Friday at six?"

Come to think of it, the most that Dexter had thought of Pashmina this past _month_ had been whenever he had seen her, when he had planned out her birthday gift, and earlier today on the walk to Sunflower Market, and even then, he wasn't preoccupied with comparing her to a summer's day or daydreaming about their future together like he normally did. No, today, his thoughts had meandered towards a notion that he hadn't entertained since the day of that disastrous brawl before the prom.

Maybe, by some unimaginable act of fate, he didn't like Pashmina nearly as much as he thought he did. To take it a step further, maybe he didn't even like her _that_ way at all, not any more.

Really, Dexter had made it quite plain to Pashmina that he was interested on numerous occasions in the past, some more extravagant than others. And every single time, she would either misunderstand his confessions as platonic or give him a noncommittal "I'll think about it, okay?" and one of those shy smiles that used to make his heart melt. He didn't mind her indecision for the first few years of wooing: after all, she was simply amazing, and he would wait eons for her if that was what it took. But after a while, repeatedly putting himself out there and watching her do a dance of "will I or won't I" while everyone else just watched and laughed started to lose its appeal.

Now, every time Dexter looked at her, he just felt more and more numb, like he had become immunized to the poison of her charms and didn't even realize it until today, more than nine years after he had seen her walking into third period after a summer full of both physical and mental development as though God himself had shone a spotlight onto her and declared, "SHE is the one for you, Dexter. It doesn't matter how long you have to chase her, just do whatever it takes."

_Well, maybe God had been blinded by the immaturity and lust of a fourteen-year-old boy and missed His_ real _target,_ he thought sardonically to himself.

"Dex! Looks like the cat got more than your tongue, huh?"

Dexter blinked furiously as he shook his head to clear his senses, only now realizing that Howdy was standing directly in front of him, balancing his left elbow on the handle of his soggy mop, perpendicular to the tiled floor. He snickered not-so-indiscreetly as the tips of Dexter's ears turned bright red in embarrassment at having been caught off guard. Such a rare moment; oh, the look on his face was priceless! Howdy wished he had a camera, it would make terrific blackmail material.

Well, not that he'd ever blackmail someone.

"I... I was just preparing to exit." Dexter had a bad habit of unconsciously speaking even more pompously than he normally did whenever he was nervous or embarrassed, as if it would make him seem smarter and therefore less vulnerable. "And before you question me, I have found all of the merchandise that I require with utmost ease."

Howdy glanced down at Dexter's empty arms. "I can see that."

Dexter's ears turned redder. "What are you even doing away from the register, anyways? Don't you have other clientele to tend to?"

Howdy laughed. "Really, Dex? Ya even looked at the place?" He jerked his head towards the chimes above the door behind him, which hadn't made a sound since Hamtaro left. "Nobody! Heck, this place is more like Sunflower Morgue what with all of the action that goes on 'round here." He started to launch into an explanation of how "Sunflower Morgue" was supposed to be funny, already holding back giggles, but a withering look from Dexter kept him from doing so. "But yeah, I figured that now's a good time as any t' start cleanin' up after Hamtaro's trail of terror before the boss man gets here. And lemme tell ya, he ain't nearly as forgivin' of messes as _our_ Boss Man."

Dexter, unfortunate enough to have seen Howdy's boss in full smoke-steaming-from-the-ears action, had to agree. "Well, then, why are you wasting time talking to me if you're so worried about cleaning up in a timely manner?"

"That's kinda the thing, Dex." Picking up the mop, Dexter jabbed the wet end towards Dexter, who stumbled backwards half a foot to avoid water dripping on his shoes. "Yer right in my way."

Dexter looked down: sure enough, he was standing directly in Hamtaro's muddy footprint trail, rendering his previous attempts to save his shoes useless, for the bottoms now had dirt caked between the wedges. Oh, that would be such a pain to clean out. "Ah. Yes. I knew that."

"I'm sure ya did."

Dexter sheepishly sidestepped out of the muddy path, which was soon scrubbed so clean by Howdy's old mop that it put the Swiffer to shame.

"And... that's about it!" Howdy surveyed his work with the pride of a warrior surveying the bloody battlefield where he claimed victory. "Probably got enough of it up t' suit the boss's taste, if he ever gets down on the floor and _licks_ it, that is! See, Dex? 'Taste' and 'lick the floor'? A ha ha... ha... ha." His voice trailed off to almost a whisper, courtesy of Dexter's murderous glare.

"If you have no more pitiful excuses for jokes to tell me, then I must be on my way." Dexter started to walk towards the door, mentally bracing himself for the chimes' cacophony.

"Wait a sec!"

Howdy's calloused hand shot out and grabbed Dexter's shoulder, preventing him from going any farther. Dexter whipped around, his expression the very definition of "extremely pissed." "What do you want now?"

"You… you've got something for Pashmina's birthday, right?"

_Pashmina's birthday_. In an instant, Dexter remembered Hamtaro's suspicions of Howdy forgetting that particular event. But in an even quicker instant, he decided that he didn't really care at the moment. "Of course I do! And why would you want to know?"

Howdy released his grip. "Well, gosh, you don't have t' get so defensive about it, y'know! I mean, it's just a _question_."

"I'm not being defensive, and you haven't answered _my_ question." Dexter folded his arms across his chest. "How is it your business if I have a present for Pashmina or not?"

Howdy faltered for a moment, which practically confirmed it: "It's because you don't have one yourself, do you?"

"I've got no idea what you're talkin' about!" He snapped, switching from "trivial banter" mode to "okay, he's seriously upset" mode, a switch that happened less than once in a blue moon. "And it's none of your beeswax, anyhow!"

"Oho, who's being defensive now?" Dexter said smugly. "It's okay for you to ask about my business, but when I do the same to you, it's suddenly a huge secret? Quite hypocritical, if you ask me."

"You – that's – you can't prove anything!" Oh, what fun it was to see Howdy sputter just like Dexter had been just a minute ago! "For your information, I've got a present that's really gonna cinch the deal with Pashmina! And it's gonna make your pathetic little present look like… like a 99-cent party favor! Yeah! How do you like that?"

"Of course it will." Dexter, wanting to quit while he was still ahead, opened the door to leave, hardly even wincing at the chimes. But before he left, he threw one last remark over his shoulder:

"Just like last year."

Dexter could only imagine how flustered Howdy looked right at that moment, but even the mental image of him remembering that catastrophe he tried so hard to forget was satisfaction in itself.

He would never say this aloud, but he really did enjoy his little repartees with Howdy.


End file.
